


Following the Lead

by velocitygrass



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Alternate Universe - Detectives, Alternate Universe - Future, Case Fic, M/M, Murder
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-24
Updated: 2011-06-24
Packaged: 2017-10-20 16:48:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/214910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/velocitygrass/pseuds/velocitygrass
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John Sheppard's latest murder case has a growing amount of leads, none of which allow him to solve the puzzle of Karen Parker's unusual death. When Rodney McKay is brought in on the case, it's annoyance at first sight for both of them. While John is stuck in the time of combustion cars and 2D-TVs, Rodney embraces the latest technologies and develops housebots in his free time. Together they work to uncover why Karen Parker had to die and along the way discover that they have more in common than they thought.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Following the Lead

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [casestory](http://casestory.livejournal.com/). Thanks so much to Springwoof for the beta! Be sure to take a look at danceswithgary's [beautiful cover](http://danceswithgary.livejournal.com/475260.html) for the story and give her feedback!
> 
> For further content notes, please see the notes at the end of the fic.

Years of experience had hardened John Sheppard, but that didn't mean the sight of a dead body was something he'd gotten used to. He certainly wasn't like Jennifer Keller, who greeted him in her naturally cheerful manner.

"Hey John. I see you still haven't given up your jalopy." She grinned at him.

"I'll get buried with it," John said, smiling.

"Hopefully you'll not get buried _in_ it. I still don't know how you manage to get a license to drive that thing around."

"I have my ways," he said impishly.

"Oh, I don't doubt that," she said with a smirk and a quick once over. "So what have you got for me?"

"Karen Parker. Age around thirty. No immediately visible causes of death," John answered, walking towards the body.

"Ah, a mystery," she said enthusiastically, following him.

John watched Jennifer as she examined the body. He wasn't sure what to expect. There really wasn't a case at this point, other than the body. Normally he could have just let Jennifer do her thing and only get involved once she determined that there was indeed foul play involved.

But even beyond the fact that thirty-year old women with apparently no prior medical history didn't usually drop dead in their living rooms, something about her death and her surroundings rubbed John the wrong way.

The apartment was beautifully furnished, but so devoid of anything personal that John had the feeling that someone had worked meticulously at removing anything related to the dead woman. He just wasn't sure if it happened before or after the death.

Karen Parker's occupation was listed as personal trainer, and while there was some exercise equipment in the apartment and she looked fit enough to have been a trainer, John didn't see anything in the way of records for clients. He knew that for most companies paper was a thing of the past, but it was still unusual to not have _anything_ business-related in non-digital form. Especially for a business that made enough money for full-room TV and the latest model of house-robot.

John hadn't questioned the robot yet. In his experience they never had anything useful to say. And in this case he was pretty certain the robot's memory was either wiped clean or had its function set to orders only. Or maybe both.

Eventually, Jennifer got up. She looked puzzled.

"What can you tell me?" John asked, when she didn't immediately give him the result of her examination.

"Well, I could tell you she drowned without any involvement of water—or any other liquid—but I don't think you'd like to hear that, so I'll just say you'll have to wait until after the autopsy and possibly lab results," Jennifer answered.

John frowned. "What do you mean, she drowned without water? Isn't water in the definition of drowning?"

"In a case like this where we don't know what happened, I can only go from the symptoms. She has some signs that point to drowning; however, her lungs lack any kind of liquid that I could detect to confirm that."

"Could it have been removed?" John asked.

"Possibly," Jennifer said, though she sounded doubtful. "I can say for certain this is not simply a case of someone forcing a liquid down her throat and cutting off all other air supply. I'm not even sure I'll find _any_ kind of liquid in her lungs. It's just..." she shook her head.

"What?" John asked. "What do you think? No matter how it sounds."

"It's like she drowned on air," Jennifer said, clearly realizing how little sense her assessment made. She sighed. "I hope the autopsy will give us some answers."

John nodded. "I'm sure you'll figure it out." He'd had his doubts about Jennifer in the beginning, but despite her age she'd proven herself as a competent, sometimes even brilliant medical examiner.

He nodded at a waiting officer that it was okay to take the body away. John watched as they put Karen Parker in the body bag and wondered how she'd really died—and more importantly, why.

~~

Once John had written his first report confirming that the case was worth investigating, he decided to head over to the Pegasus.

He frequently went to Teyla's bar after work. It felt as much like home to him as his own apartment. A lot of that was because, like John, Teyla didn't believe that technology solved all your problems and certain things were worth doing with your own hands.

That included serving beer from the tap, which made the Pegasus one of the few places in town where you were served by a human—except for the really fancy restaurants of course, but John had never been into those. The Pegasus also featured actual wooden furniture and wall coverings, great music, and old-fashioned 2D-TVs that sometimes ran classic football games from disc instead of crystals.

His ex-wife used to joke that he'd been born sixty years too late. Of course, by the end of their marriage it wasn't so much a joke as one of the many ways in which he frustrated her.

John shook his head, not wanting to deal with memories of that time, and entered the Pegasus.

Teyla greeted him with a wide smile, immediately pouring John a glass. "You look like you need it," she said.

"Not sure about that, but I certainly want it," John said.

"Bad day?" Teyla asked, handing him the glass.

"Not necessarily," John said, taking a long sip. "I've got a new case and more questions than answers."

She smiled knowingly. "I see," she said. "He's in the back."

"Great," John said.

He'd have to wait for Jennifer's report as well as the computer forensics result, but his instinct told him that they wouldn't find anything useful to the case. Neither the neighbors nor the landlord had been able to tell him anything about Karen Parker. Finding someone who actually knew her might not be easy, so John immediately thought of Ronon.

Ronon was a private eye who plain and simply knew everything. And what he didn't know, he could find out. He had connections into all reaches of society, throughout Atlantis and probably beyond. If John needed to find someone or something, Ronon was always his best bet.

It was a shot in the dark, but maybe he'd be lucky. If there was anything interesting to know about Karen Parker, Ronon would be able to tell him.

"Should I call him out?" Teyla asked.

John shook his head. He could wait. He was tempted to join them, but Teyla had forbidden him from gambling in her back room—for his own good. And she was right. He'd let that habit of his go a bit too far. He was happier now after deciding that instead of gambling he would read more.

The Athosians had a library with real paper books, and Halling had allowed John to borrow any book he was interested in. Athos was a small community on the outskirts of Atlantis. Most Atlanteans considered it the wild, but to John it felt more real than all the metal, stone, and glass that made up the city. He was always glad to visit Teyla at her home and experience a life that felt much more natural to him.

"Will you have time for training tomorrow?" Teyla asked him.

"I don't know yet. It really depends on what comes up tomorrow. I'll let you know if I can make it," he said.

She nodded and went to take the order of another guest. The Pegasus was quite popular.

A guy that John didn't know sat at the end of the bar and gave him a quick smile. John smiled back but didn't let his gaze linger. He wasn't looking for company tonight, and if he were he wouldn't do it here.

There were the regulars that came several times a week and then there were those that came here because they'd read or heard about this 'curious little corner in Atlantis' as one reviewer had called it. Neither of them were good one-night-stand material. The Pegasus was far too relaxing for him to risk having to avoid it because of some guy he didn't want to see again and the one-time visitors mostly saw the bar and everyone in it as something of a freak show. John didn't like to feel like he was on display. He could tolerate those visitors if they were able to behave, but he really hated the ones that stared and laughed and shouted, "Oh my god, is that a jukebox?"

John nursed his beer, watching one of the old games on the TV, until he heard Ronon say, "Sheppard!"

John checked his watch. "That was fast," he said, looking over to Teyla.

"I merely mentioned to him that you were here," Teyla told him.

"I was done for the night anyway. You have to stop while you're ahead," Ronon said, giving John a pointed look.

John ignored the dig. "Give me another and one for Ronon," he told Teyla.

"You got a favor to ask?" Ronon guessed.

"Let's talk at a back table," John suggested, pointing at the end of the room, where it was more quiet—and private. He got the two glasses from Teyla, thanking her, and joined Ronon at a table in the corner.

"New case?" Ronon asked, after they'd sat down.

"Yes," John said, taking a file photograph of the victim and putting it on the table, so that Ronon could take a look at her. "Her name's Karen Parker. She's supposed to be a personal trainer, but we know nothing about clients at this point and I have to admit I have my doubts. Do you think you could find anything out about her?"

Ronon looked at the picture, then up at John. "No," he said.

"No?" John asked, surprised.

"I don't have to. She's not a personal trainer. She's a freelancer. Information, theft, anything that can be done by a single person. Not cheap, but she gets the job done. What do you want with her?"

Jackpot. This was much more than a little opening that John had hoped for. "She was found dead in her apartment today."

"Hmm," Ronon said, looking at her photograph again. "Maybe revenge from a victim. I hear that she was good at getting close to the victims before taking what she came for."

"Or someone wanted to silence her as a witness," John suggested. "You said she's for hire. Not everyone trusts those deals."

Ronon narrowed his eyes. "She had a pretty good reputation. If word got out that she talked, new jobs would dry up. But you're right, someone might want to make sure that all their tracks were covered. I'll keep an ear out and see if I hear anything about what her last job might have been."

"Thanks," John said. "You really helped me out here."

"As always," Ronon said good-naturedly. "Thanks for the beer."

~~

John went straight to Jennifer the next day, hoping she'd finished the autopsy and found something that explained how Karen Parker had been killed, which would help to find out _who_ had killed her.

"So, drowning or not drowning?" John asked.

"I'm afraid I can't say more about that than I could yesterday," Jennifer said.

"Drowned on air?" John asked. That couldn't be her final answer.

"The cause of death is myocardial infarction after oxygen was cut off for too long from her brain. There are various ways why this could happen, but I don't find any evidence for any of them, while there is _some_ evidence of reactions typically associated with drowning. However, I didn't find any evidence of liquid in her lungs or the rest of the respiratory system. It's as if she drowned and then someone magically took away what she drowned on," Jennifer explained.

"Could the liquid have been...sucked off or something?" John asked, desperate for an explanation that would shed light on this.

"Maybe the trachea, but there wasn't any liquid in her lungs either. Persistent laryngospasm could cause that, but if someone really sucked the liquid out of her, I would expect to find _some_ kind of evidence of that. The kind of pressure needed for that would have left a mark. Everything looks completely normal to me."

"Hmm," John said. He had no idea what to make of that. Inexplicably, Jennifer grinned widely at him. He raised his eyebrows in questions.

"I found something else, though," she said.

"What?" John asked.

Jennifer turned and picked up a little tray. "This," she said, looking at a small electronic chip on the tray.

"What kind of implant is it?" John asked.

Jennifer activated the surround screen, bringing up a huge close-up image of the chip. Thankfully, she'd learned over time that he really didn't need to be immersed in the body of a victim, so the image was of the cleaned chip alone, rather than where she'd found it.

"Non-registered," Jennifer said. "It's definitely experimental and it's not one of the normal trials either. There's no designation of the lab, which is highly unusual."

"What does this mean about what the chip did for her—or _to_ her?" John asked.

"I'm afraid that's outside my area of expertise, but I bet McKay could help you," Jennifer said enthusiastically.

John groaned inwardly. The last thing he wanted was the new self-proclaimed tech wizard coming in and taking over the case.

"You haven't even met him, have you?" Jennifer asked at his reaction.

"And I don't really want to. I've been solving cases my way for twenty years. Do you know what that guy did to his old department?" John asked.

"He turned it into the most modern police department on Earth?" Jennifer asked.

"He turned it into a big computer. Now, I won't deny that robots can be useful at times and I do have a gamepad, but there are things that a machine will never be able to do. Like looking a suspect in the eye and being able to tell if they're hiding something," he said.

"Actually, studies have shown—" She stopped at his withering glare. "Of course, there are limits. A machine will never have...instinct," she said placatingly.

"Can I take the chip?" he only asked grumpily.

"It's all yours," she said, smiling.

Until Woolsey ordered him to ask McKay for help. John sighed and turned.

"Oh, and Phil is in lab two. I told him you'd drop by, and he said you could come in," Jennifer told him.

John turned back and glared at her. She smiled sweetly at him. "I'll take the back door," John said.

On his way out, John heard her laugh as he managed to escape Phil.

~~

As soon as he entered the Atlantis PD, he went towards the lab of the tech guys, hoping they'd be able to tell him something about the chip, so that Woolsey wouldn't see the need to involve McKay. Of course, luck wasn't on his side, and before he even reached the first floor, someone stopped him and said, "The boss is looking for you."

John groaned inwardly and made his way over to Richard Woolsey's office. He took a breath before entering and put on a smile. "Hey, Richard. I've made some progress on the Parker case," he said, hoping to buy himself some time.

That hope evaporated when he noticed that Richard hadn't been alone. "John," he said in his friendly manner. "I don't think you've met the latest addition to our department." John wasn't naive enough to believe this was a coincidence. Woolsey was about to add McKay to the case, who would no doubt rely on computers to do his work. The man hadn't even been a police officer until a year ago, when he announced that he helped out the Vancouver police so often that he might as well become one of them.

McKay straightened and lifted his chin, before holding out his hand. " _Dr._ Rodney McKay," he said ceremonially.

John only stared at him. Did the guy think John would call a fellow officer by his title, just because he fancied himself to be some genius inventor? If he did, he was dead wrong.

McKay pulled back his hand and screwed up his mouth. The left side had a peculiar downward slant. Then he abruptly turned to Richard. "I think we can all agree that it would make most sense, if _I_ took the case from here."

"What?" John said, outraged. "This is _my_ case. I've been making good progress."

"Oh, did you?" McKay said disbelievingly. "Because from what I've read, _you_ found out absolutely nothing. The only lead you have is the implant in the victim's head, which Dr. Keller found. And the only thing he could tell was that it doesn't have any recognizable designations. Do you have any idea where to get a lead on that chip? For instance, did you know that most components of a chip have traces that will allow you to narrow down the possible manufacturers? And did you know that by cross referencing manufacturers with the labs that they supply, you can often find a match for a chip, even if all easily identifiable markings have been removed?"

John clenched his jaw. The arrogance of McKay was unbelievable. "It's _she_ ," John said icily.

"What?" McKay asked, frowning.

"Dr. Keller. Her name—which I'm sure you found on the report—is Jennifer. It shouldn't take _rocket science_ to guess that she's female," John said.

"I don't see what her gender has to do with this case," McKay said, annoyed.

"Nothing. It's just that most people consider picking up on details part of our _job_ , and that was pretty hard to miss," John said, giving McKay a wide false smile.

McKay glared at him. "I know what you're trying to imply. But I'll have you know that I'm meticulous when it comes to evidence, emphasis on _evidence_. The name of the ME is hardly part of that. And this nice little distraction doesn't change the fact that you'll need to find out what the chip does and who created it and that you'll never do that without _me_."

"Because analyzing the chip—which by the way I was going to have our lab do before I was called here—is the only possible way to find out who created it? Tell me, what would you do if your analysis doesn't spit out the lab it was created in? What if they were careful enough to remove the traces or got their parts not via normal supply channels? What would you do then?" John asked him.

"John, I think—" Richard began, but McKay interrupted him.

"I was going to do an analysis of her computer anyway."

"It was already analyzed. They found nothing," John said.

"Of course, they found nothing. They did a standard cryptographic analysis to find encrypted or hidden files, but if they used steganography to obscure files, it will take a different approach to find results," McKay said.

"So your plan is to sit at the computer for the next two weeks?" John asked.

"I didn't say that. But since you obviously know everything better, I'd like to hear about your next steps in the case. Other than letting others do some analysis for you. Were you going to knock on the door of every lab and ask them if they maybe built an undesignated chip and if so, would they please tell you how it ended up in a dead woman?" McKay asked.

"Actually, I was going to start looking for her latest victims and customers, seeing that she was a criminal for hire," John said, looking smug when McKay's eyes widened in surprised.

"How do you know that?" he demanded, crossing his arms.

"By doing my _job_. I had the feeling that her files wouldn't yield anything useful, so I asked around and my informant could identify her immediately."

"Wonderful," Richard said, smiling widely. "I can see that I had the right idea in letting you two partner on this case."

"What?" they both said, turning to Richard.

"Rodney hasn't quite settled in yet, but the appearance of the chip will make his input invaluable for this case, and you have the experience of doing police work in Atlantis for twenty years, John. I'm sure you two will have a lot to learn from each other," Richard finished, smiling at them.

McKay made a sour face, and John wasn't happy either, but the truth was, he _could_ use McKay's help, and it would be stupid to let his pride get in the way of solving the case—which was still _his_.

~~

Once outside Richard's office, McKay took a deep breath. "Look, we might have gotten off on the wrong foot."

Well, if that wasn't an understatement. John gave McKay a look.

"It was never my intention to take this case away from you," McKay said.

"Really? Because to me it sounded exactly like that when you said that _you_ should take over the case," John said.

"You didn't even want to shake my hands!"

"I'm not calling you _Dr._ McKay!" John shouted back.

McKay looked momentarily confused. "I didn't ask you to."

"Well, there's no need to hit us over the head with it either," John said, more calmly, but still annoyed.

"I was just introducing myself," McKay said. "I didn't expect you to call me by my title. I thought...you can call me Rodney," he added stiffly.

John didn't know what to make of McKay at all, but suddenly he didn't seem as arrogant anymore. He almost looked vulnerable. "Okay, _Rodney_."

"Thank you," McKay said sincerely. "John," he added.

"So, you'll want to take a look at the chip?" John asked.

"Yes. I think it's our strongest lead, apart from what you found out," McKay said.

"I agree," John admitted. "You really think you can find the lab that designed it with an analysis? How long will it take?"

"The analysis will only take a few hours. And yes, since the chip is undamaged there is a good chance we'll get a result. I'd say seventy-five percent. And if we _don't_ get a result, then you're probably right, and someone took great care in hiding it, which would be telling in and of itself."

John nodded. "Good, let's go."

McKay smiled at him, then they both turned and started walking—in opposite directions. They both stopped and turned back. "Where are you going?" they asked in unison.

"Our tech lab?" John asked.

"Uh, no. We can do it at my own lab at home. I have everything set up there ready to go," McKay said. "And I might have gotten off on the wrong foot with the lab assistants too."

John smirked. "Might help not to call them assistants."

Rodney rolled his eyes. "I _do_ plan to get the lab here up to speed with the latest technology, but right now my own lab will be the fastest way to go. So?"

John nodded and they walked out towards the parking area. Except that once outside the building, McKay once again took the wrong turn.

"Where are you going now?" John asked him.

"The subway station?" McKay asked.

"I have a car," John informed him.

"Oh, really? Seems so unnecessary in the city," McKay said, but followed him. John refrained from commenting. They hadn't even come to a stop in front of John's car, when McKay said, "Oh god. You're _that_ guy."

John turned to him. "What guy exactly?"

"The guy with the combustion car." McKay looked at the car with suspicion. "Is it even legal to drive that?"

"I have a special permit," John told him.

"Who did you have to bribe to get it?" McKay asked. Then quickly added, "Don't tell me. I probably don't want to know."

John only grinned and got into his car. He put on the safety-belt and was ready to turn the ignition when he noticed that Rodney was still outside. John leaned over to be able to look to the passenger side window. "This'll be easier if you get _in_ the car."

McKay grumbled but got into the car. "Oh god, what is that smell?" he said, once seated. He squirmed as if trying to minimize body contact with the car.

"It's just a car," John said.

"Probably poisonous fumes. Do you have any idea how toxic these old technologies are?" Rodney said, the corners of his mouth slanting down in disgust and discomfort.

"And yet, people survived using them by the millions," John said. "Seat belts," he pointed out, when McKay just sat there.

"Oh, no. You're aware that these are _dangerous_?" McKay whined, even as he put them on.

"Not more than going without. And I do have a safety blob installed in the front, so don't worry."

McKay sighed in relief. "So it isn't all original?" he asked.

"It's hard to impossible to get some old parts," John said, finally starting the ignition. "And I've added some state of the art safety features. Brakes are completely new for instance." He backed out of the parking spot.

"That's good to hear," Rodney said. "I live in Greendell."

Which was the better part of town. Only wealthy people lived there. John wasn't too surprised. McKay sat stiffly as they made their way to the Eastern part of Atlantis. "I'm a safe driver. Never had an accident," John felt compelled to point out.

Rodney only gave him a quick look. "I'm not a fan of cars in general," he said.

John took that to mean that Rodney's discomfort wasn't because of John driving. Which made him feel a bit better. He turned on the disk player. Maybe Rodney would find Johnny Cash soothing.

But his first comment, a minute into the song, was, "Do you own anything that isn't at least fifty years old?"

John snorted. "I think I have a can of spaghetti or two that's only a year old."

Rodney shook his head. "There are people who're still waiting for cars to fly and there's you, who has to be pulled into the _present_ kicking and screaming."

"Hey, I wouldn't mind a flying car. I'm not against _everything_ new. I just don't see the point in many things. Not everything that's newer is automatically better," John said.

"I won't deny that. But without new technologies, you'll never have _any_ kind of improvements. We'd still be riding on horses," Rodney said.

"Fine by me," John said, smirking at Rodney, who only gave him a disbelieving look.

"Turn left here, then right," Rodney instructed.

They ended up in front of a nice-looking white house with garden. There was an unused parking spot, which John took. The gates opened as they approached without any intervention that John was aware of.

"I've configured them to automatically open for me," Rodney explained.

John refrained from saying that this was _definitely_ one of the things that he considered pointless.

The front door opened for them as well, and after they'd hung up their jackets, a woman approached them.

"Oh, Fran. Fran, this is John Sheppard. He's working on the new case that I mentioned."

She smiled politely at him and lifted her hand.

"John, this is Fran."

John only gave her a look. This was the second time in the day that we hasn't taking a hand that was offered to him. But this time it had nothing to do with anything the owner of the hand had done.

"She's a robot," McKay added after a moment.

"I know," John said.

"You do?" McKay asked. He sounded slightly disappointed. "Because I've been told that she looks completely human."

"It's the eyes," John said, turning to Rodney. "You can tell from their eyes. They always look dead."

Fran removed her hand. "Can I bring you something?" she asked Rodney, ignoring John.

"John?" Rodney asked.

"I'm good for now," John said, eyeing Fran. She didn't even glance at him.

"We'll probably want something for lunch. Please remind me in two hours," Rodney told her.

"I will," she said, smiling at Rodney. Then her face turned completely neutral as she glanced at John, then turned around and left. Her movements seemed very natural. John could see why some people might be fooled.

"She must be one of the latest models," he said. He wasn't keeping up with news about robotics, because this tendency towards human looking robots was disconcerting to him, but from what he knew, they hadn't quite reached this level of accuracy.

"I built her myself," Rodney said proudly. "And I've actually got an even more advanced model."

"A hobby of yours?" John guessed.

"One of my private projects," Rodney said. "How about I show you around the house?"

They did a little tour, and Rodney mentioned various state of the art automations that he had already installed or was planning to install. "I haven't moved everything in yet. It's a work in progress, but the lab is usable. I did that first, obviously."

"Obviously," John echoed deadpan.

The house was even larger than it looked. They'd already come across a guest room and McKay's bedroom, when they entered another smaller room with a queen size bed.

"You don't have any kids, do you?" John asked. From what he'd seen so far, McKay didn't seem like he had a wife, let alone children.

"No, this is Fran's room," Rodney said.

"She has her own _room_?" John asked. "What does she even need a bed for?"

McKay suddenly turned an interesting shade of red. The moment it clicked, John closed his eyes and screwed up his face. He did not need that mental image. The idea of sleeping with a robot had always freaked him out.

"Just please tell me that you're not... _dating_ her or something like that," John pleaded.

"What, of course not!" Rodney said. "I don't really"—he made a vague gesture with his hand—"all that often. I haven't since I arrived, actually. I'm too busy. And I only...when I'm going through a dry spell."

John was still making a face. The shade of Rodney's face was slowly returning to a normal color. "Maybe this is a good time to go to your lab," John suggested.

"Yes," Rodney said emphatically.

The lab was larger than the master bedroom and, as far as John could see, very well equipped. Rodney seemed very much in his element, inserting the chip in a contraption and talking about the analysis.

"Will you have to monitor the progress?" John asked.

"No, it's fully automated," Rodney said, smiling. "When it's done, it will give us the full result. Now we only have to wait. In the meantime you can bring me up to speed on what you found out. I've only skimmed over the result on the computer analysis and Dr. Keller's report."

John told him the little he knew, mostly to cover all the things that they could eliminate as a possible lead. They went through the photos that were taken of Karen Parker's apartment, but Rodney didn't notice anything unusual either.

"I took a sample of some oil that she had near the bathtub, but nothing else," John said.

"You think that might be connected to her death?" Rodney asked.

"Not really. It's probably just be another skin product, but it wasn't in the manufacturer's packaging, so I thought I'd check it out."

Rodney nodded. He opened up the lab's report on the oil on his computer. "Merweed," he read. "Never heard of it. But it seems you're right. It's used for skin irritations."

"There wasn't anything unusual with her skin, though. Maybe she simply had it in case she got hurt on the job," John speculated.

"Did your informant tell you anything other than that she's a criminal for hire?" Rodney asked.

"He said she wasn't cheap and that she worked alone. That's all he had for me. But he's looking into it."

There was a knock on the door, and a man entered.

"Fran said to remind you of lunch," he said.

"Right," Rodney said. "Would you like anything in particular?" he asked John.

"No, I'm good with just about anything," John said.

Rodney made no move to introduce them. Suddenly John remembered that he'd mentioned a more advanced model. "He's your other robot?" John asked.

Rodney looked pleased that John had to ask. "This is Peter. Peter this is John Sheppard."

Peter came closer and looked actually thoughtful for a moment, before lifting his hand. John had never seen such a life-like robot. He took Peter's hand by instinct.

"It's good to meet you, John," Peter said, smiling at him.

John shuddered inwardly. Not because the smile was creepy, but because it was _not_.

"We'll have lunch ready in half an hour," Peter said, leaving them alone again.

Rodney looked at John expectantly.

John swallowed. When Rodney deflated slightly, John told him, "It's not...he looks great. I'm just not comfortable with the idea of not being able to tell if you're talking to a human being or a machine."

"Well, I can guarantee you that's not a problem at the moment. The time that it took me to develop them makes them priceless. And they're programmed for a narrow subset of all human actions. But even if at one point, robots like these go into regular production, I don't see what's so different from the robots that we already have in our day-to-day lives."

Rodney had a point, but he still wasn't right. "It makes a difference if I see one walking in front of a car and have to think about jumping to help them."

"I've never considered that," Rodney said, frowning. "Is that something you do? Ever?"

"It was more theoretical," John said.

"Well, as I said, that's something we don't have to worry about right now. Your informant, did he tell you when he would be able to find out more?"

"No. But I was going to check the place where we usually meet after work. In the meantime I wanted to go through some of the unsolved cases that we have lying around, see if there are some that might fit to her."

"I have a spare computer here that's hooked up to the PD network," Rodney said. "I can do a preliminary check of her files, to see which approach would be best to find her records. She has to have kept them somewhere."

"Maybe in the chip?" John suggested.

"That's possible, but unlikely. There are commercial chips available for simple records like that. Besides Dr. Keller's report says the chip hasn't been in for more than a few months."

"She could have transferred the old data. But I agree. The chip is more likely something else. And I bet it has something to do with her death."

~~

Rodney didn't find anything suspicious in the computer files, but wasn't giving up. "I'll have to step up the level of depth in my analysis," he said.

"How long will that take?" John asked.

"It might take a bit," Rodney admitted.

John hadn't made any progress either. Ronon hadn't been specific enough in what he'd told John about Karen Parker for John to easily pinpoint any unsolved crime that might give them a lead on who killed her.

Eventually, Peter called them for lunch. John was surprised that it was a real home-cooked meal. And not a bad one at that.

"What?" Rodney said at John's look. "Just because I enjoy the advancements of technology, doesn't mean I can't appreciate something old-fashioned. I sometimes take food pills for convenience, but whenever I can, I eat a real meal."

As they talked, John found out that Rodney did enjoy other old-fashioned things.

"You really have old paper comics? As in one or two or more?" Rodney asked when they'd started talking about comics.

"As in complete story arcs with sometimes dozens of issues," John said. His collection wasn't professional by any means, but for a hobbyist it was quite impressive.

"The Leveler?" Rodney asked.

"Yes. And others from the Activator Group. I've also got older stuff. And new ones. There are some unofficial paper issues of Under Ground," John told him.

"What? I've never heard of that," Rodney said.

"That's because you won't find it in normal shops. There's a lot of stuff out there if you know where to look."

"Hmm. I'm not sure Under Ground could be improved on. The Sea Intruders Arc was amazing," Rodney said.

"Yeah, it was. And doing it on paper isn't necessarily trying to improve. It's _different_. It's more of a homage," John said.

"Wait, you're reading the latest Under Ground comics? Even the _animated_ ones?" Rodney asked.

John sighed. "Yes, McKay. I have safety blobs in my combustion car, read animacomics along with paper, and solve my cases with the latest technology _and_ good old leg work."

Rodney nodded. "Here's to the best of everything."

John snorted, but saluted him with his glass.

After lunch they went back to Rodney's lab to continue working. About two hours later, the analysis of the chip was done.

Rodney eagerly scrolled to the result, but quickly deflated.

"It couldn't identify the lab," John said.

"No," Rodney confirmed. "It could identify some standard parts, but over half of the elements of the chip couldn't be traced back at all. They must have not only been very intent on hiding the origin, but competent enough to realize what was necessary to do it. Whoever did this knew what they were doing. This isn't the kind of thing that a small lab could do. We're looking at a larger company here that has their own lab."

"Which doesn't narrow it down all that much in Atlantis," John commented.

"Sorry," Rodney said.

"Hey, no. Good job. At least now we know where _not_ to look. Is there anything else you could find out about the chip?" John asked.

"Of course!" Rodney said. "I'm 99% certain that I can find out what the chip does. The only reason I haven't started was that this analysis is faster, mostly successful, and results in an actual address to work from. But now that that didn't pan out, we'll move to the next step."

"There is always a next step with you, isn't there," John said, smiling.

"Well, yes," Rodney said, shifting.

"I meant it as a compliment," John said. Rodney might have pissed him off this morning when they first met, but since then he'd grown on John.

"Oh. Thank you, then," Rodney said, flushing slightly.

John smiled at him affectionately, then turned back to his work.

~~

They worked through the rest of the evening without any concrete results. John had prepared a list of potential companies with their own labs that had the means to design the chip. He also kept going through unsolved cases, marking those that pinged him as potentially the work of Karen Parker.

Rodney worked on the chip and the computer files at the same time, rolling his chair from desk to desk.

They had dinner together too, and when the time came for John to leave, Rodney didn't hesitate to put on his jacket.

"You want to come along?" John asked.

"We're working on the case together, right?" Rodney said.

"Yes, but...my informant won't talk to you. You're welcome to tag along though. He might not even be there. It's a bar near the PD."

"Sounds good to me," Rodney said.

This time Rodney got into the car with a minimum of fuss. "I should warn you that the bar is a bit...old-fashioned," John said shortly before they arrived.

"Color me surprised," Rodney said sarcastically.

He did make big eyes when he entered the bar, though.

"Hey John," Teyla greeted him, glancing over to Rodney.

"Hey Teyla. This is Rodney McKay. He's working on my latest case with me," John introduced him.

"Wow. Is that a 2D-TV?" Rodney asked.

"Yes," Teyla confirmed. She looked at John, who only shrugged. "Can I get you something to drink?" she asked Rodney.

"What will _you_ have?" Rodney asked, turning to John.

"The usual," John only said, sitting down at the bar. "Give him the same."

Rodney sat down as well, taking in his surroundings. "Wait. No serving bot?"

"No," Teyla said, laughing. "Hand poured at exactly the right angle." She set down the glass in front of Rodney.

John watched him eye the glass before taking a sip. "Thanks," he told Teyla when she gave him his glass.

"Oh, this is _good_ ," Rodney said. He took a longer swig of the glass, his throat moving as he swallowed the beer.

John found himself mesmerized for a moment, quickly turning to his glass when he realized what he was doing. He took a sip, then asked Teyla, "Is he in?"

"Not today, sorry," she said. Then she turned to Rodney, who'd already finished his first glass. "Another one?"

"Yes, please," he said enthusiastically.

"How often do you drink, McKay?" John asked.

"Not that often," Rodney admitted. "And you wanted to call me Rodney," he added with something that looked a bit like a pout. John suspected he was already a bit tipsy.

Teyla raised an eyebrow, but looked amused as she poured Rodney a second glass.

"There's something in it that I can't put my fingers on," Rodney said. "Which brewery is it from?"

"It's privately made. You can't get it anywhere else in Atlantis," Teyla said.

"Guess I'll have to come back then," Rodney said.

"Please do," Teyla said, smiling at him.

Rodney flushed. It was adorable in a way, but John also felt slightly irritated, though he didn't know why. "Do you know if he'll come in today?" John asked her.

"I don't know, though I doubt it. Did he say he'd meet you?" Teyla asked.

John shook his head.

"Your informant?" Rodney asked.

John nodded. "I told you I wasn't sure he'd be here."

"Well, it was certainly no waste of time," Rodney said, taking another sip and smiling at Teyla.

John harrumphed. "I think we can call it a night," he said.

"Oh, we don't have to leave yet," Rodney said, looking over to Teyla.

John rolled his eyes. "Hey Teyla, how's Kanaan doing?" he asked.

"He is doing very well, thank you," Teyla said, picking up John's empty glass.

"Kanaan's her _husband_ ," John informed Rodney, who looked comically sad about the news.

It didn't keep him from talking to Teyla however. John turned his attention to an old game on the screen, only listening with half an ear as Teyla talked about the Athosians. He straightened, though, when Rodney asked, "You make everything yourself? Even soap and things like that?" with what sounded like a real purpose to John.

"Some we buy, some we make ourselves," Teyla said.

"How about oils?" John piped in, realizing where Rodney was going.

Teyla seemed a bit confused by John's sudden interest. "Yes, we make some of those too. Why?"

"Have you ever heard of Merweed?" Rodney asked.

"Of course," Teyla said.

"Is it rare?" John asked, hoping that maybe there was more to this than he thought.

"No," Teyla said, laughing. "You can find it anywhere in coastal regions, so there's a lot in Atlantis. But it has limited uses. We only use it to make oil for the divers."

"Divers?" Rodney asked.

"Yes," Teyla explained. "Standard diving suits use a special polymer that lets the skin breathe even as you dive. It's an improvement over what was used before, but some people have a bad reaction to it. Merweed oil helps to counter that."

Rodney and John looked at each other.

"You don't know of any other reasons people would use it? Could it be for general skin care?" John asked.

"I suppose, but there are far better products for that. As far as I know, it's only really useful for this in particular."

"Thanks, Teyla. You were a lot of help," John said.

"You're welcome," she said, still sounding a bit confused.

John paid for his own beer and Rodney's two. They stepped outside the Pegasus.

"Didn't Dr. Keller say she drowned, even though she didn't find any liquid in her body?" Rodney asked.

John nodded. "We're back at hints for water. I'm going to ask around at the Atlantean pools and beaches. Maybe she was diving somewhere and was noticed."

"I'll keep working on the chip. I have a theory," Rodney said.

"Care to share?" John asked.

"I'd rather wait until I can confirm it. I was wrong with my last prediction, so I'll be more careful with the next," Rodney said.

"You said there was a seventy-five percent chance of success. That includes a twenty-five percent chance of failure. So you weren't wrong," John pointed out.

One corner of Rodney's mouth moved up. "Yes, I suppose," he said.

"I'll drive you home," John offered.

"I can take the subway. It's faster," Rodney said.

"Okay," John said. He wouldn't have minded taking Rodney home. But he needed to clean his place and didn't have a bot to do it for him, so he let it go. "I'll talk to you tomorrow."

"Goodnight, John," Rodney said. "Thanks for the beer."

"You can pay the next round," John said.

Rodney only smiled at him and walked off.

~~

John actually found cleaning relaxing. He often did it while reflecting on a new case and this one certainly could use reflection.

They'd made a lot more progress than John had feared when they'd first found the body, but at the same time he still didn't have even a vague picture of what had killed Karen Parker.

There was the chip, the diving, and her unusual death. Then there was her career and the way it connected her to people either capable of killing someone or motivated to do so or both. But at this point it all didn't add up to one obvious explanation.

John usually had a pretty good gut-feeling about his cases, but this time the overwhelming feeling was that he was missing something.

After cleaning his little apartment, he took out his old gun. He generally didn't use it in the field. Stunners were not only safer, they also came with an array of options like stabilizers and auto-targeting. They were one of the things that John gladly accepted and used as the superior product, but he still had his permit for the old gun and went to the shooting range with it sometimes.

There was something about the weight of it in his hand and the way the recoil let him feel the force of the gun. He was aware of how deadly it was, of course, so he never used it on people. It sometimes came in handy on locks or things like that, though, even if they had other tools for that. And unlike a stunner, you had to take care of it and clean it, which John sat down to do now.

His thoughts turned to Rodney.

John's first impression of him had been that he was an arrogant asshole. And while he certainly _was_ arrogant, he could back that up with actual abilities. He hadn't found the location of the lab today with his analysis, nor anything in her files, but John knew that he was working his way through the layers that hid the information they needed.

It really wasn't so different from how he handled a case. Which was another thing that John had to admit about Rodney. He wasn't just relying on his tech skills to get information. He might not have been a cop until recently, but he certainly knew how to think like one. Asking Teyla about the oil had been a great idea.

John smiled, remembering how awkward Rodney had been at flirting with Teyla. He also remembered the irritation that he'd felt. Rodney wasn't the first to try and flirt with Teyla, and he wouldn't be the last. John had never minded it before because he knew Teyla was very happy with Kanaan and that she could handle herself if someone wouldn't take no for an answer.

Maybe he simply didn't want Rodney to become Teyla's new favorite regular.

John dismissed the thought and put away the cleaned gun. He decided to head to bed early. He had a lot to do tomorrow, and hopefully they'd finally have the breakthrough that they'd been waiting for.

~~

The beaches and pools in Atlantis were a complete bust. If Karen Parker had practiced diving, she hadn't done it any of the clubs that offered it and she'd managed to go unnoticed by the pool personnel and beach guards. Nobody had recognized her or heard of her.

John was frustrated that the lead didn't pan out, and he hoped that at least Rodney had been luckier. He called him after visiting the last pool.

"Any progress on the chip?" he asked.

"Yes!" Rodney said enthusiastically.

John perked up at that news. "What does it do?"

"I think that's better shown than explained," Rodney said. "Have you eaten?"

"No, wanted to finish this first," John said.

"Then why don't you come over, and I can show you after lunch?"

John didn't have to be asked twice.

"So, are we closer to solving the case?" John asked after they'd sat down in Rodney's dining room.

"It's certainly a good step forward. I know what killed her," Rodney said, digging into his potatoes.

"You solved the drowning without water mystery?" John asked.

"I did," Rodney said smugly. He wasn't forthcoming with his discovery, however.

"So it has to do with the chip?" John asked.

"Yes," Rodney said.

"And let me guess. It's easier to show than to explain," John said, slightly annoyed that Rodney seemed to enjoy leaving John hanging for now.

"I don't want to spoil the surprise," Rodney said, grinning. "So, I was wondering if you'd be willing to part with your paper comics for a while? I've been able to find scans of The Leveler but the quality is mediocre to atrocious."

"Let me think about it," John said.

"I'd treat them with utmost care obviously," Rodney said.

"Yeah, I'm not worried," John said. Then he smirked. "Just don't want to ruin the anticipation for you."

"I'll show you straight after lunch!" Rodney said defensively, then grumbled, "Spoilsport."

John snorted, then rolled his eyes. "You can have them, okay?"

"Really?" Rodney asked hopefully. John had never noticed how blue his eyes were.

"Yeah," he said, swallowing.

Rodney _beamed_ at him. John couldn't help himself. He had to smile widely too.

They skipped dessert because John didn't want to wait any longer. Once in Rodney's lab, Rodney switched on the largest screen and, after taking a deep breath, activated something on his computer.

The screen changed to display an underwater scene.

"It's a virtual reality chip?" John asked doubtfully. "I've never heard of someone being killed by them. And I'm sure we _would_ have heard about that."

"Of course, not. Or actually, yes, but it's not one of the regular VR chips. It's not just a VR movie or show. It's not even one of the interactive VRs chips that can be used for...uh..." Rodney stopped, flushing.

"Learning?" John asked.

"Right, learning," Rodney said.

John rolled his eyes. "Do you use _all_ new technologies for 'personal entertainment'?"

"Oh, come on. Like you've never looked at a porn VR," Rodney said.

"I haven't," John said.

Rodney gave him a look.

"I haven't," John repeated. "I don't have an IO jack," he said, pointing at his neck.

"Seriously?" Rodney asked, clearly disbelieving.

"When my father offered to buy me one, I told him I'd rather get a pilot's license. And even when they became more affordable, I didn't see the point," John said.

"Didn't see the point," Rodney repeated flatly. "Okay," he said, shaking his head. "Uhm, then maybe I should be a bit more specific. I assume even if you don't have an IO jack yourself, you know how they work in general?"

John nodded.

"Okay. So depending on the kind of money you're willing to spend you get a more or less complex interface to the brain. Normal VRs are just immersive watching. Then there are the interactive ones, which require a much higher level of integration. Since this requires both one of the high-end brain interfaces _and_ a very complex program, such chips are always highly specialized. They are specific learning programs, such as for simulating surgery."

"Or interactive sex," John said with a smirk.

"Well, yes," Rodney said flushing. "Though most of that specializes on making the most out of the mainstream IO jacks. The market there is obviously much bigger. And actually porn might be the best way to explain what Karen Parker's chip is about."

John raised an eyebrow.

"It _isn't_ porn," Rodney immediately said. "But it has in common with porn that it uses _both_ the immersion _and_ interactivity of the VR. Usually the training programs focus more on the latter, while movies focus on the former. But _all_ of the genres have one thing in common that the chip doesn't have," Rodney said seriously.

"And that is?" John asked.

"The integration gate," Rodney said.

"Which is?" John prompted, because he'd never heard of that.

"I'm not sure how much you know about the history of human-machine-interfacing," Rodney said.

"Let's assume it's not much," John said.

Rodney gave him a quick smile, but got serious again. "In the first trials there were accidents. Animals died because we didn't consider what seems obvious to us now: The brain can't be fooled. If you tell the brain you've cut off your foot, it will react accordingly. Not only will pain signals be sent, but it will take measures to work around it and remove the foot from its network so to speak."

John nodded as understanding dawned. "Like you can't have first shooter games in chips," he said.

"You can, but with the integration gate they wouldn't really be any more immersive than a good 3D set-up, so the money spent on the integration would be wasted. That's why they don't do it. This is something completely fundamental to designing chips. It's like you wouldn't create a stunner without an off switch. It's _always_ there."

"But not in Karen Parker's chip," John concluded.

"Exactly," Rodney confirmed. "This underwater scene was as real to her brain as actually being in water would be."

"And when she drowned in the VR..." John trailed off. Rodney nodded. Something occurred to John. "Why would anyone go to such lengths to kill her?"

"Oh, I doubt that chip was meant to kill her," Rodney said. "At least, it wasn't the main purpose."

"What _was_ the main purpose?" John asked.

"A very sophisticated cross between exploration and interaction. There are tunnels under water that lead to boxes of some kind." Rodney typed on the computer and the screen changed to show such an underwater box with various buttons and levers.

"Do you know what this is?" John asked.

Rodney shook his head. "I think it might be a simplified version of something real. Like they left everything out that's not necessary for whatever they tried to show or teach her."

John looked at the underwater scene in front of him. "Learning to go underwater and manipulate machinery. I think this pretty obviously leads us to some kind of sabotage. It would also fit with her job profile."

Rodney nodded. "Now we only need to find out _what_ she was learning to sabotage and _who_ paid her to do it."

John turned to Rodney. "And if they wanted her to die. This chip seems like a big investment to make. Could her death have been an accident caused by them leaving out that safety gate?"

Rodney gave him a serious look. "John, this was programmed into the chip. The scenario breaks the oxygen tank and traps you in a cage under water. You can see the gas escaping."

John felt his throat tighten, just imagining it.

"This was no accident," Rodney said. "I rather think it was _their_ version of a failsafe. In case their investment didn't pay off."

"She probably had no idea," John said, wondering what Karen Parker had been paid to do and why her clients didn't think she'd go through with it.

~~

They headed back to the PD to report on their progress. Woolsey was very pleased, not just about the progress, but that they were working together so well. John looked over to Rodney who gave him a little smile. John smiled back.

After the meeting with Woolsey, John suggested to quickly check in with Jennifer. He didn't doubt that Rodney's theory was right, but it was never a bad thing to confirm what you knew with a different opinion.

Unfortunately, he regretted his decision almost immediately. Jennifer was excited to finally meet Rodney and not shy about letting him know.

"Oh, please call me Jennifer," she said, smiling at Rodney.

Rodney practically preened. When he told her about his theory, she was fast to confirm that he was right and that it would explain what she'd found. She was so enthusiastic that Rodney seemed to float with pride—and John had to do his very best not to punch his fist into the autopsy table.

He managed to suppress the biting, "Should I leave you two alone?" when he suddenly realized what was wrong with him.

It made him take a step back. Not that they even noticed.

John had no idea when this had happened. He'd only met McKay the day before. And there'd been nothing to explain...whatever it was exactly that he was feeling now. He couldn't deny the jealousy that he hadn't recognized the day before when they'd been at the Pegasus, but beyond that John couldn't really tell what was going on here.

Rodney wasn't even his type. He wasn't bad-looking or anything, and yes, he had a nice ass and his blue eyes—okay, so there was some amount of physical attraction, but there were other hot guys in Atlantis and John had done very well over the years without ever getting involved with someone, let alone feeling annoyed that he couldn't.

Because while Teyla was already taken, Jennifer was single, and she certainly seemed interested in Rodney if her fawning over him was any indication. And Rodney enjoyed every second of it.

This was...John shook his head. There was no point in lamenting Rodney's apparent heterosexuality. Really, it wasn't as if John would want to be in a relationship with him. He was bad at relationships. And beyond that, a relationship with a fellow officer was just asking for awkwardness. He only needed to look as far as Phil for that, and that hadn't even been a relationship.

No, the best thing John could do was to get this case over with and to forget about McKay in anything but a professional manner.

He decided as a part of that new strategy it would be best to remove himself from having to watch Jennifer and Rodney exchange pleasantries before Rodney did something like asking her out. "I'm heading back to my office to look into something," John said and turned without waiting for an answer.

"What?" he heard Rodney call after him. "John?"

But John kept going. It had been too long since he'd last felt that way. He didn't know how to deal with it. So he decided to do what he could deal with—work.

Of course, this had to be one of the days where Phil was not just waiting for him to drop in, but where he actively sought John out.

"Hey, John. It's good to see you. We should—"

"No!" John shouted. He was too pissed off to keep up appearance for once. "We should _not_ get together some time. I do _not_ want to get together with you _ever_. Have I made myself clear?"

Phil looked at him, stunned. "But we had—"

"We had a fucking one-night-stand five years ago. Get _over_ it," John snarled at him.

Phil opened his mouth but shut it again. His lip started trembling. And dammit, now John felt bad, because Phil wasn't a bad guy, he just wasn't what John wanted. He wasn't Rodney. John silently cursed himself, because hadn't he just decided that he didn't _want_ McKay?

Phil's gaze suddenly turned awkward and moved behind John.

Oh, great. John turned around to find Jennifer and Rodney staring at him.

"I'll be in my office," he said and fled.

~~

John spent the rest of the afternoon doing research on buildings that had technical underwater installations. Since Atlantis was an island, only connected to the mainland via a bridge, it took him a few hours to come up with the complete list.

There were several dozens of companies that relied on the water as a workplace, for cooling, for energy, or because they provided services on or around the water. Additionally, there were land-based companies that had underwater components.

All of them would be vulnerable to sabotage to different degrees. All of them had competitors that would benefit if they had an accident. Some were small enough that the scope of the sabotage and the cost of the chip didn't make them a feasible target, but most of the larger companies were involved in the kind of business that made it financially viable to go this route. Not to mention that they were the kind of companies that tended to have an in-house lab somewhere and would thus fit the profile of who had designed the chip.

In other words, the research hadn't really given him any answers, but now he had a list he could let Ronon look over—and he'd been able to distract himself from the whole thing with Rodney.

John quickly dropped that line of thought, instead opting to go home to eat and go over the list once more until he went to the Pegasus again that evening.

~~

John was sorting the list of companies by business segment when his door bell rang.

He didn't expect anyone, and he didn't get any surprise visitors as a rule, so he activated his stunner and took a look through the spyhole. It was Rodney.

John deactivated the stunner and opened the door.

"I have to say, you found a fitting place to live. Are there any older apartment houses in Atlantis?" Rodney said by way of greeting.

"Why? Are you looking for a new place already?" John asked, stepping aside to let him in.

"In case you forgot, I haven't even unpacked," Rodney reminded him.

"I know," John said.

They looked at each other, the silence between them becoming awkward.

"You said, you'd be willing to lend me your Leveler comics," Rodney eventually said.

"Right," John said. "I'll go get them."

"I hope I didn't disturb you," Rodney said.

John stopped, frowning. "Doing what?"

"I don't know," Rodney said, flushing.

"You know, for someone who manages to work as a police officer _and_ scientist, your mind spends a lot of time thinking about sex," John said smirking.

"You are the one who always draws these conclusions about me," Rodney said, lifting his finger accusingly.

"Okay. Then what _did_ you think you could be interrupting?" John asked.

"It could be anything. You could have had someone over to _talk_ ," Rodney said.

"Well, I didn't," John said.

"You could be living with someone for all I know," Rodney added.

John didn't know what he was trying to say—or ask. "I don't," he simply said. When Rodney had nothing else to say, he went to fetch his collection of Leveler comics.

When he came back, Rodney stood at the same spot by the door.

"Here you go," John said, handing him the comics.

"I'll be sure to return them in the exact same condition," Rodney said, looking at the cover on top.

He made no immediate move to leave, so John said, "Do you want to come in? I was going over the list of companies I compiled this afternoon."

"Of potential targets?" Rodney asked.

"Targets or perpetrators. If we're looking at competitors as the most likely ones to hire Karen Parker, they'll very probably also fit the criterion of having an underwater installation themselves."

Rodney nodded, and John led him to his small living room. Rodney looked around, making a face. "How old is your cleaning bot model?" he asked, sitting on the couch gingerly.

"I don't have one," John said.

Rodney looked horrified, as if he had to force himself not to jump up from the couch. "Are you saying your apartment has never been cleaned?"

"People cleaned their apartments before housebots," John pointed out. "I do it myself."

"Right," Rodney said, squirming on the couch.

"McKay. A bit of dust is not going to kill you," John said, leaning a bit towards him.

"A good housebot does more than dusting," Rodney said. "I don't want to imagine what kind of germs lurk on every surface."

"Then don't," John said, smiling at him.

Rodney made a face. "I could lend you Fran, in exchange for the comics."

"Thanks for the offer, but I'm fine," John said with finality.

"All right, if you enjoy living in dirt," Rodney said, giving up.

"I like being a bit dirty sometimes," John said, giving Rodney a flirty smile. He just couldn't help himself.

Rodney's reaction was immediate and not entirely unexpected. He flushed. John only wished he knew if it was simply the topic or John that caused it. He still didn't even know if Rodney was into men as well as women. He'd seen him flirt with Teyla and Jennifer, and there was Fran.

Suddenly John thought of Peter. Of course, Rodney hadn't said if he also used him for 'recreational purposes'. And even if he did, he could be watching Fran and Peter go at it. So that wasn't any proof either.

Not that John wanted proof. Hadn't he decided not to think of Rodney in that way? It was hard to remember that when Rodney was sitting right next to him, squirming and flushing.

"So, that thing with the guy at the morgue..." Rodney said, looking at John nervously.

"Was a one-night-stand a long time ago," John finished for him.

"And you're not seeing anyone else at the moment?" Rodney asked.

This time John didn't try to convince himself that Rodney's words didn't have to mean anything. His heart skipped a beat at Rodney's obvious interest in him, even as his brain tried to remember why it was again that he didn't want to start anything with Rodney.

However things were pretty much taken out of his hands when Rodney didn't wait for an answer, and simply said, "That's good," and leaned forward to kiss him.

John spared a thought wondering if Rodney had engineered his robots to teach him kissing because the kiss wasn't just good, it was great. Then he didn't think about anything other than Rodney's lips on his.

Rodney became increasingly passionate, opening up his mouth and tearing on John's clothes. When he moved his mouth down John's neck to one newly exposed nipple, John moaned. Rodney lifted his head and looked at him. His lips were red and wet and unbelievably kissable.

"I have a bedroom," John said.

Rodney nodded, slightly out of breath. "I'll pretend that it's clean," he said.

John laughed and pulled him into another kiss.

~~

John lay in bed, panting, wishing they'd thought to go to the Pegasus first. He really didn't want to get out of bed, but if Ronon had a lead on Karen Parker's last job, they couldn't afford to miss it.

He sighed and sat up, swinging his legs off the bed. After another moment of catching his breath, he got up. He looked at Rodney, who had his eyes closed and a blissed out smile on his face.

John smiled fondly. "I'll take the shower first if you don't mind," he said.

Rodney opened his eyes and looked at John. His smile faded. "Oh. You want me to..."

"We should check if my informant is at the Pegasus today," John said.

"Right," Rodney said. "I guess we should."

John got a weird feeling. "Without any more information we have a pretty long list to go through," he pointed out. And every day gave the killers of Karen Parker more time to cover their tracks.

"Yes, of course," Rodney said. He sat up.

"You can stay in bed until I'm done," John said. "Unless the bed's too dirty," he said, grinning.

But Rodney didn't smile. Instead, he got out of bed and started throwing on his underwear and shirt.

"Would you like to take the shower first?" John asked.

Rodney turned to him. "Look, I...If we didn't have to check with your informant, would you have wanted me to leave?" he asked.

John's mouth opened and closed again. He hadn't really thought about that. It had been so long that he had sex with someone who wasn't a one-night-stand that he didn't really remember what people did if they...dated. Hell, he didn't even know _if_ they were dating now.

"I see," Rodney said. "I think I'll take the shower first. I guess you can check with your informant alone."

"Rodney," John said helplessly.

"It's okay. I wanted to continue going through her files. She had to keep track of her finances and other information _somewhere_ ," Rodney said, only quickly glancing at John.

"It's not like that," John said. "You can stay. We can go to the Pegasus and come back here together."

Rodney gave him a long look. "Is that what you _want_?" he eventually asked.

John hesitated long enough for Rodney to drop his gaze and pick up the rest of his clothes. When he walked past John, John put his hand on his arm to stop him. "I want _you_ ," he said. "I just...I haven't had a relationship since my divorce. This came out of nowhere for me."

"I wanted you since the first moment I saw you. And then of course you had to hate me," Rodney said.

"I didn't hate you. I just thought you were an asshole."

"Well, I thought you were an asshole, too. Didn't stop me from wanting you," Rodney said.

"I do want you," John said.

"So you've said. How long has it been since your divorce?" Rodney asked.

John thought about it for a moment. "Sixteen years? No, seventeen."

Rodney seemed to think about that for a moment. "You don't want a relationship," he finally said.

"I didn't say that," John said. Then he admitted, "I don't know, okay. "

Rodney swallowed. "Okay," he said.

"I'm sorry," John said. He certainly hadn't wanted things to be awkward between them. He wished he could tell Rodney that he was ready to have a relationship with him, but it would be a lie and he didn't want to lie to Rodney. "I really enjoyed this. It was fantastic," John added, putting his hand on Rodney's shoulder and stroking him ever so slightly with his thumb.

"Well, yes. It was great, though we should work on the afterglow. If we do it again," Rodney said, looking at him.

"I'd like that," John said without hesitation. Relationships were potentially problematic, but sex...he was certainly okay with sex. And he did like Rodney—a lot.

Rodney nodded and even gave John a weak smile.

John smiled and squeezed Rodney's shoulder, before letting him go to the bathroom.

~~

John headed to the PD early the next morning. His trip to the Pegasus the night before had been semi-successful.

Ronon had been there and he had a few names for John, but nothing that obviously pointed to one of the companies on his list. They'd quickly gone over that list, but Ronon hadn't noticed anything either.

He had told John a bit more about Karen Parker. She had apparently a very good reputation of doing a quick but thorough job and of keeping her mouth shut about her clients. Her specialty had been extracting information or objects from secured places. Sabotage was a bit outside of the usual, but it did fit the general profile of breaking and entering for illegal purposes.

John went to his office and updated the files with the new information he'd received. He also sent Rodney a quick message with a link.

He didn't mention anything personal. He'd thought a lot about Rodney before falling asleep last night. The idea of entering a relationship with someone still filled John with quite a bit of trepidation. But the other option, to turn Rodney down, seemed even worse no matter how John looked at it.

The sex had been good in ways beyond the physical act. He hadn't just gotten off like with his one-night-stands. For all their differences, he and Rodney simply worked together well. John knew that he wanted to spend time with Rodney beyond this case. They got along well, and they were attracted to each other. Dating was the natural next step. John knew that.

He just needed a bit more time to get used to the idea. He hadn't actively looked for a relationship since his divorce, but that had been a general fear of the many ways relationship could turn sour. What was under consideration now wasn't _a_ relationship. It was a relationship _with Rodney_ , and John couldn't deny that it might be something that he'd _want_.

The next hour he went through the names that Ronon had given him and was able to connect a few of them to some of the unsolved crimes that he'd earlier compiled as potentially the work of Karen Parker.

But none of them seemed to be connected to her latest client, so John was back to deciding which on the long list of companies he should check out first.

He was in the process of narrowing it down when Rodney knocked on his open office door and came in. "Hey," he said.

John turned in his chair. "Hey," he said, giving Rodney a quick smile.

Neither of them said anything else, and the awkward silence stretched, until John said, "I met Ronon yesterday."

"I got your message," Rodney said, coming in. "Anything useful on the list?"

"Some leads for old cases, but nothing that would help find out who killed her," John admitted.

"I might have something," Rodney said, sitting down on John's spare chair.

"You do?" John asked. It couldn't be anything definitive. Otherwise Rodney would have told him immediately.

"I was working on her files yesterday, when I kept coming back to the environment in the chip. Even if it's simplified, it has to be similar to the real thing or it would be pointless. So I wrote a little script that extracted the geometric data from the environment."

"Like a 3D plan?" John asked.

"Yes. A very simple one, basically a wall plan if you will," Rodney said.

"But that would be enough to run it against the building plans in the city archive," John pointed out, sitting up a little straighter. Anything that would help narrow down the target would be helpful for them.

"Yes, and that's what I did," Rodney said. "Unfortunately there was no match." John deflated. "However," Rodney continued, "I wrote a little algorithm that created some variations of the plan. In particular, I lengthened the longer tunnels, because I thought they might have shortened them to speed up the simulation time."

"You mean instead of 'turn left and then go exactly four hundred meters', they turned it into 'turn left and swim straight ahead for a long time'," John said.

"Something like that, yes," Rodney said.

"So, did you get a match?" John asked.

"I did," Rodney said, but he still sounded hesitant.

"But..." John prompted.

"I got more than one match. And I can probably widen the parameters of the algorithm until we get a match for at least half the list," Rodney said.

"Okay, but you've got to start somewhere and the tunnel length seems like a reasonable guess. How many matches did you get for the narrower parameters?" John asked.

"Four," Rodney said. He switched on the screen and projected the list of potential targets before selecting a filter he'd previously added to narrow it down to his four matches. "I guess it's a start, but as I said, it could very well be that the simplifications are somewhere else and _none_ of these four are the target. It could even be that the installation isn't even on Atlantis. They could have planned to fly her out somewhere else to do this."

As Rodney talked, John looked at the four matches, until he saw the last. He pointed at it. "This one," he said.

"The Mansfield Shipyards?" Rodney asked. "Why?"

"They are about to finish a big project for the government. It's believed that the success of the project will determine if they get a follow-up contract. It's been in the newspaper. The big show-down between Mansfield and Johnson & Hatch. Johnson & Hatch has had problems lately and some think if they don't get this contract it will be the end of the company."

"That's a pretty good motive, but the development of the chip and hiring Karen Parker was a pretty big investment. They could have put that money into lobbying or, you know, actual development of technology," Rodney said.

John switched to a browser and did a search on Johnson & Hatch. "This is the article I meant."

"Three billion," Rodney read. "Okay, I can see that with that amount the investment into the chip would be drop in the bucket."

"They even talked about a large loan somewhere. Wait here. They took this loan and pledged the whole shipyard to the banks to get it."

"Is there anything on what they used the loan for?" Rodney asked, scrolling through the article.

John started a more specific search. "Nothing that the press reported on."

"That doesn't prove anything, but it _could_ have been used to develop the chip. They had the means and a very good motive," Rodney said. He looked decidedly more excited than he had when he entered. "Plus, if they can't tell us what they did with that loan, we'll know they have something to hide."

"I would assume it ran under 'research'," John said. But he knew what Rodney meant. Asking a few questions could put them on the defensive, and he definitely wanted to see their reactions to the question.

"Of course," Rodney said. "But I want to see how nervous they get when we threaten to bring a court order." He grinned.

"Let's wait with the threatening," John said. "These people are capable of killing someone. I just want to talk to them for now."

Rodney frowned suddenly. "What do you think went wrong? I mean that they killed Parker instead of letting her do the job."

"That's one thing I'd like to know. Ronon said she was very professional. She didn't back down from a job she took," John said.

"Was she involved in any other sabotages?" Rodney asked.

"Not that I'm aware of. Ronon said it was mostly breaking and entering to 'acquire' information or prototypes."

"Maybe she didn't want to kill anyone," Rodney said.

"Oh, yeah, she definitely wasn't a killer according to Ronon. But why would the sabotage have killed anyone?" John asked.

"I've looked a bit into the specific module that she was trained to manipulate and it seems to be the stabilizer of the whole installation. If you damage it and all its safety mechanisms, the whole object—the whole ship in this case—will go down. It's really the best way to ensure complete failure of a project. Recovery would probably not be a lot cheaper than building it again. It sinks everything and _everyone_ on board."

"I would think she'd do it at night," John said.

"For such large installations there's no work-stop. There are robots on board twenty-four-seven, and even if there'll be significantly fewer humans during the night or on weekends, there are at least a dozen humans on board at any given time," Rodney said.

"I didn't know that," John said. "And maybe Karen Parker didn't either until she'd already agreed to do the job."

"I think it's time to pay Johnson & Hatch a little visit," Rodney said, getting up.

John got up as well. "Good job, Rodney."

"Well, I still wish I could get to her files. We've got means and motives, and I _believe_ we're on the right track, but it all still amounts to circumstantial evidence. They put a lot of energy into making the chip unidentifiable. Maybe they've got a whole fake report on the research they did with the loan. Or maybe we _are_ wrong and there's someone else who wanted to use both Johnson  & Hatch's financial problems and Mansfield's enforced failure to position themselves as a new big player."

"You always expect the worst, don't you?" John asked fondly.

"Not so much expect as try to anticipate," Rodney said. "It makes it easier not to be disappointed," he added, looking at John, then dropping his gaze.

John didn't think they were talking about the case any longer. He swallowed. "We don't know how it's going to turn out, though," he said.

"Yes," Rodney said, giving John a quick look.

"And things aren't looking bad, are they?" John added.

"I don't know. What's _your_ feeling?" Rodney asked.

John stepped closer to Rodney and put his hand on his arm. "I'm pretty hopeful actually," he said. He was. Both about the case and about Rodney. There was something undeniable about Rodney. John might not be ready yet to take the plunge and commit himself to something with a reasonable chance of failure. But he also wasn't willing to give up on Rodney.

They'd just have to take it slow.

"That's good to hear," Rodney said.

He still looked a bit tense, though, so John rubbed his hand up and down Rodney's arm, before glancing at the open door and leaning in to give him a quick kiss. Rodney looked at him open-mouthed, so John went back and gave him a not-so-quick kiss.

When he pulled back, Rodney's eyes blinked open. "We should..."

"Yes," John agreed.

Whatever happened with them, they needed to solve this case first.

~~

Johnson & Hatch was one of the older companies in Atlantis.

"You should feel right at home," Rodney joked on the way.

John only gave him a look and turned up the volume of Johnny Cash.

When they arrived, there wasn't anything in particular that pinged John as suspicious. They were asked to wait for a moment and then led to Adrian Peterson, whom John recognized from the article as the director of the company.

"What can I do for the Atlantis Police?" Peterson asked. He was maybe a bit too friendly. But then having to talk to the police sometimes had this effect even on innocent people.

"We're investigating a murder case, in the process of which we got our hands on a chip. You have an in-house lab, is that correct?" John asked.

Peterson frowned. "We do, but our business is building ships, so it's mostly for our robots. Did anything on the chip identify it as coming from our lab?" he asked.

John looked over to Rodney. Peterson hadn't just asked why on Earth they came here, he specifically asked about evidence that had been removed from the chip. Which he would only know if he'd been responsible for having it removed. Of course, the question was in no way hard evidence. But it made John even more certain that they got the right company.

"No, it didn't," John said. "Do you know Karen Parker?"

Peterson looked as if he was thinking for a moment, then shook his head. "Never heard of her. Why?"

"She was the victim," John said.

"All right, but what has any of this to do with us?" Peterson asked.

"Do you develop learning chips in your labs?" Rodney asked. "Most large companies with their own labs have a department for that to train new employees."

Peterson turned to Rodney. "Well, yes, we do—"

"Then why did you say you didn't produce chips?" Rodney pressed on.

"They're for in-house use only," Peterson said, getting visibly impatient. "As you said, most large companies with their own lab produce them. And I didn't say we don't produce _any_."

"I told you about the chip and you said you were in the business of ship building, which implies that you _don't_ produce chips," John added, putting on more pressure.

Peterson's jaw clenched, but he forced a smile. "We do not produce any chips for _outside_ use. _And_ all of our chips are registered as mandated by law. You said that this chip had no identifiable marks, which is why I could only assume the chip you found wasn't one of our in-house chips."

John looked over to Rodney. He _hadn't_ said that the chip had _no_ identifiable marks. Only that nothing identified it as coming from Johnson  & Hatch.

"The learning chips that you develop teach about the different aspects of ship building," John went on.

"Yes. Ship building is our business. So that is what we teach our employees," Peterson said. He obviously had to work on remaining polite.

"So you'd say your labs are experienced with developing training chips for all activities related to underwater installations?" Rodney said.

Peterson turned to Rodney. He hesitated for a moment. "I'm not sure we are _particular_ experienced. Actually, I'm sure _any_ company with large underwater installations has the same level of experience as we do. This is basically industry expertise if you will," he said, growing more confident again.

"Were there ever any problems with your chips?" John asked.

"What?" Peterson asked, turning sharply to him.

"Like accidents," Rodney said.

"Of course not!" Peterson said. "Our chips are state-of-the-art. And in case you didn't know, there are security measures that keep the interface between the brain and the chip in check, the so-called integration gate."

"Is your background in chip development?" John asked.

Peterson frowned. "No. I have a major in business and finances."

"Are you deeply involved with the in-house chip development?" John asked.

"No. Our training department deals with that," Peterson said.

"Is it a hobby of yours? Chip design?" John asked.

"No, it is not. What is your point?" Peterson said through clenched teeth.

"I'm just asking because when we found the chip, all of this interface stuff didn't mean anything to me," John said casually. "I know how to connect a chip to an IO jack, but that's it. But you seem to be pretty knowledgeable for someone who's not involved with chip design at all."

Peterson gave him a hard look. "I must have picked it up somewhere."

"Yeah, that must be it," John said, smiling at him.

"What do you think would happen if the integration gate on a chip was removed?" Rodney asked.

Peterson turned to him. "Since I'm no chip designer, I wouldn't know."

"So you 'picked up' that there are integration gates on chips but not what they do?" Rodney asked.

"That seems to be the case," Peterson said.

"I see," Rodney said.

Peterson turned back to John. "As much as I like to help the Atlantis police, I fail to see what this chip and the murder of..."

"Karen Parker," John supplied.

"Karen Parker have to do with me," Peterson finished.

"We're just here to ask some questions," John asked.

"And I have answered to the best of my knowledge. Is there anything else I can help you with?" Peterson asked.

"Could we take a look at your lab and your files?" Rodney asked. "We'd treat any information with utmost confidentiality, of course."

"I don't see why I should allow this," Peterson said stiffly. "You have given me absolutely no reason why this should be necessary. Or are you checking _every_ lab of _every_ company that has underwater installations?"

"You seemed very willing to co-operate with us," John said.

"And I still am. But you'll understand that our whole company knowledge is in those chips, so the labs are one of our high-security areas and only essential personnel gets access to those files. We'd, of course, be more than willing to assist the police in a murder case, but not if there isn't any kind of evidence that it's _our_ chip that was found in the victim."

"I didn't mention that the chip was found _in_ the victim," John said. "McKay, did I say the chip was found inside the victim?"

"No," Rodney said.

"I _assumed_ that was the case," Peterson said. "Maybe it's not."

"Oh, it is, but that's a very unusual assumption to make. Aren't your in-house chips external, used with an IO jack?" Rodney asked.

Peterson swallowed. "They are. But IO jacks only offer a shallow integration as opposed to an implant. Am I right?" he asked, turning to Rodney.

"Oh, absolutely," Rodney said.

"You see, then it wasn't unusual of me to assume that _her_ chip was an implant since it would be impossible to die from a chip connected through an IO jack."

John only looked at Peterson.

Peterson looked from Rodney to John. "You didn't mention that she died from the chip," he said.

"No, I didn't," John confirmed.

Peterson dropped his gaze and nodded. Then he looked up at John again. "I think, I have nothing more to say to you."

Rodney gave John a slightly questioning look.

John got up from the chair. "Thank you for your time, Mr. Peterson."

Rodney looked slightly confused, but got up as well.

"I trust you'll find your way out," Peterson said.

John nodded and pushed Rodney out of the door ahead of him.

Outside, Rodney turned to him. "Why are we leaving? With every sentence this guy got one step closer to a confession."

"We'll ask him to come in," John said, taking Rodney's arm and walking down the hall where they'd come from. John had an increasingly bad feeling about this.

"But he could destroy evidence in the meantime! And maybe get a lawyer to tell him to shut the hell up. We've almost got him," Rodney protested.

"Exactly, Rodney. We almost got the guy who had no problem at all killing someone when they didn't agree to commit an act of sabotage that would have killed several others," John said, pulling Rodney along to the door at the end of the hall.

Rodney blanched. "You don't think they'd..."

They arrived at the door, but when John pulled on the handle, it was locked.

"We're police officers. The department knows that we're here. Doesn't he realize that it would be _extremely_ suspicious if we went missing?"

"Not more suspicious than what he just told us," John said.

They heard a noise behind them and both turned around. A burly looking guy came towards them from the other end of the hall.

"Oh god, this is not good," Rodney babbled next to John. He struggled to get out his stunner.

John quickly got out his own. "Atlantis PD. Stop where you are."

The guy didn't react.

"Oh, shit," Rodney said. John glanced over to him, seeing him fumble with the settings.

"McKay," John said.

"Got it," Rodney said, lifting the stunner.

"Stop, or I'll stun you," John said.

The guy didn't slow down, and John shot. The guy was hit, but didn't go down.

"What the hell?" McKay said and shot as well—with the same result. "Did I get the setting wrong?"

The guy was coming steadily closer. John had no idea what the fuck was going on. He set the stunner to area, a setting which was only used for groups of people and only if absolutely necessary.

He lifted the gun, but before he could shoot, the guy kicked the gun out of his hand, then took John's arm and broke it over his knee.

John wasn't sure if the scream was his own or Rodney's. The pain in his arm exploded and shot through his whole body as he crumpled against the wall to the ground.

He vaguely noticed Rodney shooting twice, but the guy didn't go down. John desperately tried to ignore the agony in his arm. He needed to do something to save Rodney.

The stunner had landed a few meters away, but he wasn't sure if he could hold his upper body upright against the wall, let alone move.

"Oh god," Rodney said. "He's—" Then there was only a gurgling sound.

John managed to look up and see two large hands wrapped tightly around Rodney's neck. Rodney's face was quickly turning red.

No, John thought. He couldn't let Rodney die. He put all the strength he could muster into his legs and kicked at the guy, but he only stumbled and concentrated on strangling Rodney.

"Please," John heard himself say.

Rodney's eyes fluttered close, and he dropped the stunner in his hand. John managed to push himself towards it and set it to area. The guy didn't even look at him.

John lifted the stunner and shot, but there was no reaction at all. The guy still was calmly strangling Rodney. He didn't even look angry or aggressive. He looked—

A robot. Now that John actually looked at the guy's face, he could see it. They weren't supposed to be shielded against stunners. It was illegal. Not that Peterson would care.

John dropped the stunner, looking at Rodney, whose body only gave minor spasms now. There had to be something he could do. There had to be. There—

John took a deep breath. He didn't think he'd get more than one shot at this. He took out his old gun, moving slowly as not to alert the robot. He undid the safety.

The clicking noise made the robot turn to him.

John lifted the gun and shot. The loud noise reverberated through the hall, followed by the thud as the robot went down with Rodney.

John heard noises coming from beyond the door, where the main entrance lay. Then he heard a door open at the other end of the hall.

Peterson peeked out, eyes widening. John grabbed the stunner and shot before Peterson could make another move. Peterson went down and John dropped the stunner, turning to Rodney again. He vaguely heard someone outside talking about calling the police, then ignored the commotion and robbed towards Rodney, pushing the robot's hand away from his neck.

"Rodney, please," he said, putting his hand on Rodney's neck. There was a faint pulse. "You can't die." Rodney's breathing was erratic and sounded weird. "Don't you dare die."

John cupped his face, willing his eyes to open. He didn't even want to contemplate that he might never see those blue eyes alive again.

"Rodney," John whispered, running his thumb along Rodney's jaw. "Don't leave me."

Then Rodney convulsed and coughed, before opening his eyes.

"Rodney!" John said.

Rodney's eyes slowly focused on him. "Robot," he croaked.

John sighed relieved. "Yes, it was a robot."

"Shielded," Rodney said.

"I know," John said, stroking Rodney's face. Then he leaned forward to kiss him.

Rodney blinked when he pulled away. "How did you switch it off?"

John snorted. Not even barely alive Rodney could turn off his brain. "It's surprising how useful an old gun can be," he said.

Rodney's eyes widened. "You shot a bullet at this thing while it was strangling me? In your condition without stabilizers and everything?"

"Rodney! You were dying," John said, swallowing.

"Yes," Rodney said. He seemed to consider that for a moment. "Good thinking."

John snorted again, then leaned forward and kissed Rodney again.

"Are you okay?" Rodney asked, when John pulled away this time.

"I am now," John said.

Rodney turned his face to look at John's distorted arm. "Oh god. That's broken! How can you say you're okay with a broken arm? Has anyone called an ambulance?" he asked outraged.

"Rodney," John said quietly, cupping his face. "I'm okay as long as you are."

Rodney blinked. He opened his mouth, but didn't say anything. Then he looked at the door, which was suddenly unlocked.

John managed to grab Rodney's stunner and point it at the door, but when it opened it was Stephens with a team from the Atlantis PD.

"Peterson," John said pointing at the end of the hall, where Peterson still lay. "Arrest him on account of murder and attempted murder and sabotage."

Stephens sent two of her people to fetch him and looked at the human-shaped form that lay next to Rodney.

"That's just a robot," John said.

"Call an ambulance, will you? Sheppard's arm is broken," Rodney said.

"There's someone on the way," Stephens said. "Anything else?"

"Secure all computers," Rodney said.

"And people at the lab. Just secure everything. If Peterson didn't alert the chip designers they might still be in the lab," John said.

Stephens looked at one of her people and nodded. "Reinforcements are coming," she said. "We won't be able to keep everyone here indefinitely, but we can do a search if you can tell us what to look for."

John looked to Rodney.

"If they're anything like Peterson, you'll probably just have to grab the ones that start running as soon as you enter," Rodney said.

John chuckled, then hissed at the pain in his arm.

Rodney looked worried and sat up. "When's the ambulance coming?"

"Any moment now," Stephens said.

"I can come with you to the lab once they're here," Rodney told her.

"Rodney! He nearly strangled you to death!" John said.

" _Nearly_. You heroically saved me. If the docs clear me, I can help these guys catch the ones that made the chip that killed Karen Parker," Rodney said.

"You'll have them take a look at you first," John ordered.

Rodney rolled his eyes and said, "Yes."

That was when the ambulance arrived, and John had to admit he was really, really glad about the wonders of modern medicine that put him in a state of bliss within an instant.

~~

Richard was not happy to see him out and about in his cast just a few hours later.

"It's just a broken arm," John said.

Richard gave him a reproachful look. "I expect not to see you again until _after_ I have a written statement by a doctor that you're fit for duty."

"I just wanted to check how many arrests were made," John said.

"You could have called or messaged," Richard pointed out.

"I wanted to check in with McKay," John said. He hadn't had a chance to talk to Rodney, and Stephens had told him he had gone back to the PD.

Richard still looked disapproving but nodded, so John continued to walk to Rodney's office. Richard followed him.

"Despite the injuries, I'm very happy with the way you and McKay handled this case," Richard said. "You work together exceedingly well."

John didn't say anything, just opened the door to Rodney's office after a quick knock.

Rodney looked up from the computer. When he saw John, his face lit up in a smile. Then it fell and he frowned. "Why aren't you at the hospital or at home?" he demanded.

"Stephens told me you were here. You managed to arrest the chip designers?" John asked, ignoring his question.

"They cracked like eggshells when we confronted them," Rodney said. "Both to designing the chip and the illegal shielding on the robot. I still can't believe that people with at least a modicum of talent would use their knowledge to aid Peterson in his stupid scheme."

"Money can be very convincing," John said.

Rodney harrumphed. Then he realized Richard was there as well. "I can fill in the details of the report tomorrow."

"Of course," Richard said, smiling at him. "Congratulations on your first solved case at the Atlantis PD."

"I was only half of it," Rodney said, looking at John.

"I know," Richard said. "And after the experiences in this case, I feel very confident in my suggestion. Since you and John have proven to work together so well, I think it would be appropriate for you to work as partners in the future."

"Partners?" Rodney asked.

"I know we have talked about assigning you on a case-by-case basis, but I cannot think of anyone better. And John has previously also been...let's say _resistant_ to having a permanent partner. But I dare say that has changed now." Richard turned to John and smiled confidently.

"Actually, I'd rather not be assigned to work as Rodney's permanent partner," John said.

Richard looked surprised. So did Rodney for that matter. He also looked hurt, dropping his gaze.

"I think Rodney and I work very well together," John said, to clarify. "But I think it would be more professional if we kept our _working_ relationship on a case by case basis."

"Your working relationship?" Richard repeated. Then his eyes widened in understanding. "Oh. I see." He looked to Rodney, who gazed at John open-mouthed, then back to Richard. "Well, obviously your personal relationship is more important, and I appreciate that you're keeping me in the loop. I will keep it in mind when giving out assignments." He turned to Rodney. "We'll best proceed with assignments on a case-by-case basis then, I suppose?"

Rodney nodded.

"I'll leave you to it, then. Good job, both of you," Richard said, then turned and left.

John looked at Rodney a bit nervously.

Rodney got up and took a step towards him. "I thought you didn't know what you wanted."

"Well, I've come to the realization that it's enough if I know what I _don't_ want," John said.

Rodney looked at him quizzically.

"I don't want to lose you," John said quietly.

Rodney looked at him for a long moment, before coming closer. "How is your arm?" he asked.

"Hurts," John admitted.

"I hope you don't think I'll let you go to your apartment that doesn't even have a cleaning bot, let alone one that's medically trained."

"I hadn't really thought about it," John said.

"Well, there's no thinking. You'll come with me. Fran and Peter have both advanced medical training. They'll be able to take care of you when I can't."

"It's just a broken arm," John said.

"Just a broken arm? Do you have any idea what kind of physical training you'll have to go through to get full mobility back?"

"Rodney," John said.

"This isn't going to be a cakewalk. I can't believe that they just let you walk out of the hospital. I was going to pick you up."

"Rodney," John said again.

"I've already had Peter bring over my car to—"

That was when John kissed him to finally make him shut up. When John eventually pulled back, Rodney looked slightly dazed.

"So you'll come with me?" Rodney asked.

"Yes, Rodney," John said. He was willing to follow Rodney wherever he led them.

**Author's Note:**

> Content notes: some violence (a broken arm, strangling, drowning death), guns, mention of past casual John/OMC sex, a previous marriage for John, and Rodney having sex with a robot and in interactive virtual environments.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Artwork for Following the Lead by velocitygrass](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4364873) by [danceswithgary](https://archiveofourown.org/users/danceswithgary/pseuds/danceswithgary)




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